I Am Not Jessica Chen

by Ann Liang

But here I am, trying to verbalize my own pain, to justify my own existence, breaking it down into digestible points. Every word comes out a double-edged knife. This isn’t just a debate for me. This is my history, my life.

Success is only meant to be rented out, borrowed in small doses at a time, never to be owned completely, no matter what price you’re willing to pay for it.

But sometimes pain is just pain, and there’s nothing particularly noble about clinging to it.